


Animal Dreaming

by kate_the_reader



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Anthropomorphic, M/M, fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 19:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15444156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: A sad boy meets a beautiful creature.





	Animal Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hooptedoodle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hooptedoodle/gifts).



Hidden in the bracken, bracken-coloured, watching the human-boy, so sad, so alone, lying staring up at the sky.

Creeping out, one black-stockinged foot at a time. Waiting, so quiet, so still. The human-boy does not see me — yet. The breeze rustles, the ferns move. The boy turns his head. Our eyes meet. So still, so quiet. Neither of us moves. The breeze carries the boy’s scent to me, faint, not like my own rich scent. The boy smiles, gone before it settles.

Far away, a shout. The boy scowls. Another shout. A name called: “Arthur!” The boy sits up. I step back into the bracken. The moment shatters. The boy runs down the hill.

***

The silver moon high, I step out, one black-stockinged foot at a time. Down the hill. The windows are bright. The boy-Arthur looks out. He cannot see, but I can see. He is so sad. Why?

A sharp voice, he turns away. Ah, I understand.

***

I wait in the bracken. The boy-Arthur climbs the hill, sits down. Is he waiting? I step out, one black-stockinged foot at a time. I stop. I wait. Our eyes meet. 

I wait. Quiet. Still. The breeze ruffles my fur.

“Hello, fox.”

I nod. 

He sits chin on drawn-up knees, dark hair falling in his eyes, so sad. He reaches out a hand. I step closer. He waits. I step closer, touch his hand. He smiles.

“You are beautiful, fox.”

_“_ You _are beautiful, boy-Arthur.”_

He shakes his hair out of his eyes, tilts his head.

“Why so bold, fox?”

_“Because you are quiet. And sad.”_

Down the hill, a shout. He flinches. Another shout. He sighs, stands. “Goodbye, fox.”

_“Goodbye, boy-Arthur. I will wait for you.”_

***

I do not have to wait very long.

“Hello, fox.” He sits down, holds out his hand.

I step forward, sit down. _“Hello, boy-Arthur. You are back.”_

His eyes are shadowed. A mark upon his cheek. I touch my nose to it, gentle, but he flinches.

_“You are hurt. I am sorry.”_

He touches his own cheek. His hand is dirty. “I split the milk. I was punished.”

I move closer. His hand touches my head. I tremble. We are quiet, still.

“They hate me. I am ugly, clumsy. I spill the milk, break the eggs.”

_“You are not ugly.”_

His dark eyes, so sad.

The sun declines. We sit together. A shout. He sighs. “Goodbye, fox.”

***

He does not come. 

***

He does not come.

I wait, chin on paws. I drowse. In my dream, he comes. In my dream, he understands when I speak.

“Why so sad, Arthur?”

“They do not want me. I am not my father. I am only a burden. A reminder.”

“You are you.”

“Why do you care, fox?”

“I am also sad.”

“Why so sad, fox?”

“I am trapped.”

In my dream, I can show myself.

In my dream, he sees me.

***

He is here!

He looks at me, puzzled. Did he dream of me too?

“Hello, fox.”

_“Hello, Arthur.”_

We sit together, quiet.

“You are my only friend, fox.”

_“I am, Arthur. I am your friend.”_

“If you were a … we could leave, together.”

_“I am, Arthur. I would leave with you.”_

He lies down among the bracken, I lie down too, my head upon his chest. We drowse, we dream.

In our dream, he laughs. He is happy. I am happy. I laugh.

“Fox! You are laughing!”

“Yes. You make me happy, boy-Arthur.”

A cloud dims his sun. “I don’t make anyone else happy.”

“They do not see you.” 

“What do you see, fox?”

“I see a sad boy, a gentle boy. I see a friend, Arthur.”

“That is what I see, also. Not a fox, only a friend.”

His words unlock the curse that has trapped me in my fox-form. I stand before him in my human form. 

He is still, quiet. I wait. 

He steps forward, his hand outstretched.

“A human?”

“A shape-shifter.”

“You are beautiful,” he says. “Fox or boy. Friend.”

“You weren’t afraid to dream with me.” I take his hand. “I am Eames,” I say. “Run away with me?”

He laughs. “We will lead them on a merry chase!”

We wake. Two boys together in the bracken. My head upon his chest. 

“Hello, friend,” he says. He is not surprised to see me.

“Come,” I say, standing tall and taking his hand, “Come away with me. Over the hill and far away.”

“A merry chase,” he says again. He smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying for a four-trope story. The other two on the line were "meet ugly" and "friends with benefits". Arthur thinks he's ugly when they meet, and having Eames for a friend is surely beneficial, but I can't really claim to have filled either of these trope squares in this tiny tale.
> 
> As always, darling mycitruspocket helped me craft this.


End file.
